


Coalesce

by pensandwings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 02:32:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8353462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensandwings/pseuds/pensandwings





	1. Chapter 1

It was almost eerie, the sounds of his moms laugh ringing through the kitchen. They sat at the old table in the room, chair filled with one familiar face Dean certainly didn’t think he’d ever see again. He had been on the urge on breaking down and crawling into her lap like he had when he was a boy since she returned. There was so much to tell her and nowhere to begin. How to do catch your mother up on the last half of your life? Dean hadn’t the time to stop and process half of what happened before they were onto another case, another life to save. How would be tell her who’d he become and would she stay if she knew?

Sam had gone to bed and Cas was god knows where, leaving the two of them sitting in darkly lit reminiscence. Mom had volunteered to help polish off Deans case of beer. He was a little embarrassed to admit his mom could outdrink him but smiled as she downed the last of the bottle. “At least I know where I get my tolerance from” Dean smirked clinking the bottles together.She laughed, “I was quite the partier back in the day. You’re grandfather used to say I inherited a hunter’s liver.”

“Well now I’m positive Sam’s adopted.” She gently tapped Dean’s shoulder in retribution, protecting Sam’s honor. The small gesture wasn’t something he was aware that he had missed, it often keeping his humor in line as a kid. Just like back then, she smiled besides her best intentions. “Don’t make fun of your brother,” she paused, thinking sternly, “I have to just say though, I was expecting him to be bigger than how I last saw him but-” her eyes were wide. “He’s like,” her hand raised above to head. “Abnormally huge right?” Dean responded passionately. Mary nodded, agreeing silently. “Like we get it, you’re the same height as Michael Jordan.”Mary just looked at him, blinking. He was reminded of how Cas used to be, clueless to his references. “You should really talk to Cas, he understands how it feels to be out of touch with pop culture.”

“Does he?” Mary asked with a hint of sarcasm that Dean could place. He decided it was best to ignore it. “Let’s just say I know that having to explain every joke to someone makes it a lot less funny,” He offered as explanation. He couldn’t say a part of him didn’t secretly miss it, but he wasn’t about to get into that. Mary was smirking, eyebrows raised. “I don’t know, he might be able to offer some advice, on adjusting to human life, you know?”

“I would like to get to know the guy who’s apparently been helping save you and you’re brother’s ass for the past seven years.” She reached across the table, hesitantly placing her hand over Dean’s, giving it a small squeeze. “I have a lot to thank him for from what you’ve told me.” Dean’s stomach got tight, aching almost as a reflex. “Yeah, I don’t know if I’d still be here without him. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.” His heart started beating harder against his chest. He wanted his mouth to stop moving but the bottle had other plans.

“Do you think you tell him that enough?” Mary asked earnestly.

“What do you mean?” Dean really didn’t want to acknowledge what was becoming evidently obvious his mom was concocting in her head as they spoke. “Look, we more than anyone in the world know that the time we have with the people we lo-” she stopped, catching herself. “-care about is not forever, it could be shorter than you think. Sometimes too short to say those things you always meant to. There were a million thing I wish I could have said to you kids and you’re father before I died. Don’t waste the time were given.”

Dean searched his moms face, sorting through the mixing of anxiety building inside him. “Cas knows how I feel.” He said it more as an affirmation to himself rather than a response. The words echoed in his head and felt more like an alcohol soaked lied the more it repeated back. He knew he wasn’t good at expressing his appreciation, or discussing that pain he felt when he went away. He didn’t even let himself think about it, how could he describe that confusing significance Cas played in his life.

Mary tapped her bottle, smiling sadly. “Do you know how you feel Dean?” No one spoke as the clock ticked away in the back. The question grabbed Dean, he stared silently as she rose from the table, stopping behind Dean’s chair. She squeezed his shoulder and kissed him on the top of his head. “Goodnight, don’t stay up to late,” she whispered. She flicked off the light, exiting the kitchen, shadowing Dean in deep contemplation.

He sat there for a while longer. Struck by his mother’s words, he wasn’t sure why he was so cautious in regards to Cas. Never thinking too long about him, trying to not call him when he was away. It was just too hard to explain. Years of anger, relief, joy and pain smothered into his core; any attempt of communicating would turn into a mess. No way. Absolutely not. There was nothing wrong with how things were now. He would probably just screw it up if he tired.

 _But what if you didn’t_. The thought provided more hope than expecting, taking over his body. He would be lying if he said he didn’t have a few thing he wanted to say to Cas. He had lost him in the past but had always been relieved of his anguish. Dean took his presence for granted, Cas always there when he needed him. But that didn’t mean he’d always be so lucky.

He stood, a rise to action, reaching the door before turning back around and pausing again at the table. Dean paced the kitchen like this, torn for a half hour before ultimately deciding against it, grabbing a bottle of whisky and heading for bed. He would have to wait for another time. Now wasn’t the right time. They had more important work to do. He went down the usual list of comforting excuses to his fear before tucking himself into bed with the bottle and a determination to forget tonight happened.

He was three shots in before he broke down and decided to give Cas a call. It rang twice before a low voice answered.

"Hello, Dean." 

"Hey Cas, you got time to save me one more time?" 


	2. Chapter 2

Somehow he ended up speeding down the I-90, wipers washing away the tapping rain pouring down onto the hood of black metal. Cas had shown up shortly after the phone call, drenched in panic. The two argued over Dean’s ‘misleading’ phone call while settling behind the wheel of the impala and agreed that Dean would make it absolutely clear whether he was in actual danger from now on. Deans resolve had faded when actually faced with starting a confession of admiration. The urgency subsided into a familiar warmth and tightness in his chest. Things were easy as they were, they had developed a way of communicating, dancing around anything too personal, too close to something real. Waiting hesitantly for the other to take a step forward. Who knew what would happen to if he were to take that leap? Wasn’t there a chance that if Cas heard what he had to say, that he could end up losing him? It was safer this way.

Cas stared out the window contently, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. The music cut the tension just enough to enjoy the passing night around them. “I have to say this is much nicer task than I’m usually assigned,” Cas hummed, hands folded in his lap.

Dean knew he meant no insult but the subtle jag didn’t escape him, well aware of his injustices. Cas deserved better than how he treated him. He was always willing to solicit his angel power but would dislocate when it came to anything more than that. It wasn’t out of malice, it hurt him too. He wanted more than anything to call on Cas, ask him not to leave, ask him to pick up his pieces again. But he didn’t know how to be what Cas needed. He’d only tear him down further, every second sucked into his existence plucked another feather from his back. Yet Cas still showed up every time.

“You were the one cheering ‘put me in coach’ when times got tough and I’m not one to argue.” He knew the risk, the undeniable kiss of death waiting for anyone daring to be a part of his life. Why him? Dean didn’t like to think too often about the grandiose sacrifices Cas had offered willingly throughout their past. They pulled at the seams of tucked away intentions that were reserved for dreaming and one particularly long, confusing shower. He couldn’t meet Cas’ gaze the same way after that.

“Seriously man,” Dean choosing to stare down the yellow lines ahead. “You’ve followed Sam and me into some really stupid situations. Just because we’re hell bent on some suicide mission doesn’t mean you have to doom yourself too.”

“Do you not want my help Dean?” Cas’ eyes squinted in questioning. There was a hurt hidden under his usual deep monotone. He had offended him, even just a little, for insinuating that he had become expendable in battle.

“No, I do, I-” Dean tried to continue, the angel huffing before him.

“My grace is revived, connections with my brother and sisters in heaven, I am more useful in battle than elsewhere,” he finished. He listed his qualifications like a resume, fearful of being replaced. The guilt grew legs in dean, rooting him firmly to his self -inflicted assurance that he had solely been responsible for the desperation in his voice. He didn’t know if he could count the times on one hand he had thanked him. Told him that he would be alive if he hadn’t run head first time and time again into certain death for the Winchesters. Made him understand the complexity of the space he held in Dean’s life.

“It’s not about that Cas. You’ve given up your entire family, gone against your God, and for what? Two hunters that can barely keep themselves alive let alone save anyone else. I just don’t understand,” Dean’s eyes pleaded with Cas’, “Why?”

“You and you’re brother are trying to-” he stumbled out, flustered by the question.

“Don’t give me any of that ‘do good, save the world’ crap. It’s not enough,” He tapped the steering wheel with his palm. He wanted answers, anything to make sense of what set him on edge whenever Cas was around. “You don’t just take on the devil or go to purgatory. You don’t just turn your back on an army of angels. You don’t heal every wound, take every call and every bullet for the greater good.” Cas didn’t stopped to think about his actions too often. His motivations were not guarded tightly, heaven well aware of his affliction for the human experience. Yet he had no answer for Dean’s question, mouth hanging open, searching for the words.

Why did he throw himself into the arms of danger at no more than a simple request? His loyalty to the Winchesters was the tie in which he defined himself now. Nothing like he once was, his bond with the brothers was the only consistency he needed. Cas considered himself lucky for having been a part of the human experience, especially in the life of Dean Winchester. He saw so much grief and honesty in his soul that it hurt his eyes to stare too long. He could feel the warmth radiating off his him even when he left, lingering in smiles and stories. Dean operated on a harsh standard of morality for his actions, internalizing every failure. He was what it meant to be human.

He was his human. Not that he would ever admit it out loud, but since tasked with rebuilding Dean’s soul, he had become indebted to him. Enamoured into a protective stupor over his spirit. His words didn’t know how to show him that his voice had become gospel to him. “I don’t have an answer to that question that would make sense, it’s complicated,” he said after a long time. “We’re complicated.”

“Try me,” Dean countered. There was determination in his grip around the leather wheel. Nowhere to run this time Winchester. His body was rigid, aching from the constant brace for impact. He wouldn’t have to wonder after this, released from trepidation. Reminding himself to breathe, he glanced into blue eyes.

“You, a-and I-“ Cas was fully faced in his direction, shaking slightly in his composure. There was a moment of silence just long enough to let their minds run far enough with a thought that it almost seemed within reach. “I think we-“

A loud ringing cut Cas short. Dean didn’t respond right away, sighing deeply before reaching into his pocket to retrieve the phone ruining what he was sure was about to happen. “Sam,” he stated before answering regretfully. “Hello?” They exchanged a few glances while Dean silently listened to Sam’s narrative. Dean swung the car in around, heading back towards the bunker. “We’re on our way back.” Dean hung up the phone, accelerating towards familiar territory.


End file.
